Riddles in the Dark
by Lamanth
Summary: ONE SHOT – How could something, someone, so uncomplicated be so complex yet still be so innocently simple? Kakashi/Ino


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Naruto or any of its characters, merchandise, TV rights, ect… (I think you get the point.)

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Summery 

ONE SHOT – How could something, someone, so uncomplicated be so complex yet still be so innocently simple? (Kakashi/Ino)

Like all of my work this is just something that happened to float through the empty void inside my head. Like it or hate it please R and R as honest opinions are always welcomed, as are random acts of worship.

Lamb: As always sorry for any bad spelling and if you feel the need to throw things at me please wait until I've hidden behind the sofa kay!?

_Dedi:_ This is dedicated to **shelvesinthecloset**

M**use: **On with the fic!

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_Let me be the only one,  
To keep you from the cold,  
Now the floor of heaven's lain,  
With stars of brightest gold,  
They shine for you - they shine for you,  
They burn for all to see,  
Come into these arms again,  
And set this spirit free,_

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**Riddles in the Dark**

It is late, that is about all he knows. A flash of lightning splits the sky and for a moment everything inside the small cave is bathed in a blinding silver white light. And then just as quickly as it came it is gone leaving only the cool darkness and the sound of the rain lashing at the ground. The summer storm came on swiftly and travelling through mountainous terrain as they were finding shelter was their only option. A supposedly simply patrol has become an intense waiting game.

And intense is the perfect word to describe the situation, though he is unsure why. Tension rolls off of the kunoichi with him in almost palpable waves but he can think of no reason why this should be the case. Yet she jumps at every shadow and flinches at every noise. But she has been this way since before they set out on their patrol. To him it seems ever since she discovered that he was to become her new sensei she has been wary and on edge.

He glances towards her and is disturbed to note that she quickly drops her eyes, something that she has taken to doing a lot in his presence. Pale blue orbs seek the floor, fixating upon the cold stone as if it is the most fascinating thing she has ever seen. It is unnerving for him to see such a reaction in the slender blonde chuunin.

He hardly knows her, having only been her sensei for a scant few weeks and in that time she has opened up little around him. But he knows much of her. For many long years she was the sworn rival of the kunoichi who was one third of the team he originally trained. He would spend hours dully listening to the rosette girl drown on and one about the girl who at one time had been her best friend.

For the most part he had blocked out the sound of her voice, allowing his mind to wonder while he gave the impression of rapt attention. But still a few facts about the blonde had lodged themselves in his memory. She was loud and bossy. She would take on anyone and never back down no matter the odds. She was stubborn and as pig headed a person as you could ever meet.

At the time he had found himself wondering about the tone his student had used. She was clearly angry but she also sounded respectful, as if, even though she disliked the girl in question she was someone she wanted to be like.

It is therefore rather odd and more than a little disturbing to see the blonde who had been described in such a fashion react so strongly to him simply looking at her.

He never paid much attention to her, to any other of the genin, being too caught up in the training of his own team to spare a second thought for anything or anyone that did not directly effect them. That was until the first chuunin exam. He doubted he would have noticed her then had she not had to fight the kunoichi from his team. And though the fight ended in a no contest, both girls managing to simultaneously knock the other out, in those few brief moments she some how caught his attention.

Looking back he was never quite able to say what it was about her that peaked his interest. Maybe it was something or maybe it was nothing. She was the only child hailing from the Yamanaka clan so it could easily have been that. It may have just been that the female lead of the Icha Icha volume he was reading that the time was a blue eyed blonde.

In all likelihood he would never know just what it was about her that caused his imagination to fixate upon her. All he did know was from that moment she was never far from his thoughts. At first he had tried to just brush it aside, she was a person of interest, and he simply wished to see how she developed as a ninja that possessed the jutsu of the Yamanaka clan. But over time it became harder for him to convince himself.

Over the years instead of fading, his interest in _Konoha's Golden Flower_ as she had been dubbed grew. Never once did he catch himself actively seeking her out but some how their paths seemed to cross with more and more regularity. It was not uncommon for them to eat or train in the same places. Always with different groups of people, never together. But more and more they seemed to be in the same places.

He remembered how proud he had felt when she made chuunin at fourteen and how he had questioned himself about such a reaction. She was not his student and he should not care about her any more than he should care about anyone else who gained the rank of chuunin during the exam. He told himself this but it did little to change the facts.

Whenever the jounin sensei got together he would always listen more keenly when Asuma spoke of his blonde student. A girl he often described as temperamental and too clever for her own good, but with a good heart underneath.

He shakes his head slightly to clear it of disturbing images, except they are not, they are pleasant everyday things and it is that which makes them so tormenting. In his mind's eye he can see Sarutobi Asuma, her former sensei, smiling and laughing the ever-present cigarette hanging from his lips. And in his head the question starts to form...

Are these the same things that she constantly sees? Every time she closes her eyes does she see her sensei's smiling face? Or does she see him how he looked as she tried in vain to save his life?

The girl he had watched had been so bright, so full of life, that she almost seemed to emit a warmth that was something he could not help but want to get closer to. But now the young woman she has become is cold and distant, as if she has taken some part of herself and locked it away from everyone including herself. He thinks that she used to be like the sun, all warmth and life but now she is like a star, ice cold and forever out of reach.

Once again he happens to look in her direction and once again she quickly looks away, seeking to fix her eyes on anything other than him. The way she acts it is almost as if she were afraid of him and yet he knows that this can not be the case for if she were scared of him she would have refused to accompany him.

"What is it Ino?" He tries to pretend that he doesn't see the way she flinches when he speaks and he tries to pretend that it doesn't hurt to seen her react in such a way. He fails on both counts.

"Sensei?" Her voice is puzzled and politely questioning, but she makes no move to raise her head and look at him.

"You near enough flinch whenever I speak or look at you, and you can't even raise your head to look at me. Why?" The question hangs between them in the cool, damp air, but she gives no signal that she has even heard him let alone that she intends to reply.

"Is this because of Asuma? Do you think that in some way accepting me as your new sensei is a betrayal of him?" She makes no sound and continues to stand with her head bowed and her eyes remain fixed on the floor. "I understand that you're afraid of forgetting him, but you can't put your life on hold because he has been taken away from you. It's all right if you grieve –"

"No." The word comes out as little more than a whisper, but his highly trained senses never the less catch the sound.

"But Ino, I promise you it is all right if you grieve for him –" He tires again, but again though it is barely audible her voice cuts him off.

"No," And there is the faintest trace of mocking laughter in her tone. "You don't understand. I do grieve for Asuma-sensei... just not as much as I should."

She is right, he does not understand, it shows on what little of his face is visible and he is even more confused when he sees the expression that twists her features into some grotesque parody of their normally beauty. Revulsion and self-disgust are written clearly across the plains of her face and when at long last she lifts her head and meets his gaze her opinion of herself has flooded her eyes.

"Ino..." He starts and takes a step towards her, half raising a hand though to do what he is unsure.

"I know should feel grief and sorrow and I know that I should feel them far more than I do. I shouldn't feel any form of happiness, but I do and I can't help it and I hate myself all the more because of it." She turns her head away not wanting to watch as his expression twists to mimic her own for surly her revelation must disgust him.

"Why Ino, why do you feel happy?" His voice is soft, almost tender, and in-spite of the semi darkness he can see the way her body stiffens.

"Because..." Tears fill her eyes and misery is etched in every line of her face when she looks up at him. "Because with Asuma's passing it means I've gotten something I've always wanted. Something I never dared to hope that I'd have. I've gotten closer than I ever dreamed was possible… to you."

He has no idea how to react to her sorrowful confession, for with those few words she has caused far more questions than she answered. She bows her head in shame and he feels hot pain stab through his chest. He is at a loss as to what to say, knowing only that he wishes to comfort her but not exactly sure how to go about it.

Tentatively he opens his arms, but in not surprised when she makes no move to enter his embrace, but remains where she stands, her head still lowered. He takes one step, then another and then pulls her to him. She leans gratefully into the solid support his body offers, her head buries its self in his chest and her hands fisting in his shirt.

Now at least it makes sense, he thinks, as he rubs her back through the thin fabric of her top. There is much about the girl in his arms that only moments before baffled and confused him, which he now understands. But now, as with all knowledge, came the matter of choices. There are so many conflicting factors that he wonders briefly if he knows what it is he should do. He is not even sure he knows what it is he wants until he feels her shift in his embrace. Instinctively he holds her tighter, not wishing to let her go, and in that split second he knows the answer.

Later there will be consequences to face, recriminations and people who will try and condemn them both for their actions. But it will all come later, he will deal with it later and later is fine because in the here and now it is just the two of them. With one hand he pulls down the mask that covers his lower face and then, raising her head, kisses her.

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Please R and R I'd love to know what you thought.

Big love and inspiration

Lamanth


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